


Kerberos

by NadiasGhost



Category: Voltron - Fandom
Genre: Angst, But mostly angst, I know I usually write Shallura BUT, M/M, Matt and Shiro tho, Mostly Cannon Compliant ??, Shiro did some BAD things in the arena, Shiro's POV of the Kerberos Mission, Some Fluff, Some hurt/comfort, and then of when Matt comes back, everybody needs more hugs, shiro whump, to be honest I've read so much fic idk what is cannon anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiasGhost/pseuds/NadiasGhost
Summary: The Kerberos Mission didn’t fail due to pilot error.**************************************************“Let me get this straight,” Shiro demanded, “you want me to go on a four month mission into DEEP SPACE with only my crush and my crush’s intimidating father.”She regarded him for a moment, then nodded, “yeah.”**Shiro cut him off quietly. “Hold my hand. Stay close to me.”**Shiro ignored the hand offered to him, and desperately pulled the shorter boy forwards into a crushing hug. For a second, Matt didn’t move.Shiro buried his face into Matt’s shoulder, aware of the many sets of eyes on them. “Matt?” he pushed, voice questioning and unsteady.“You left me there,” Matt whispered back.**************************************************(Based on the headcannon that Matt went to experimentation)





	Kerberos

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to put the whole fic into the summary  
> help me  
> I don't know why I wrote this  
> but enjoy some angst

“Let me get this straight,” Shiro demanded, “you want me to go on a four month mission into DEEP SPACE with only my crush and my crush’s intimidating father.”

Celine regarded him for a moment, then nodded, “yeah.” 

It was a friday night and they were both buzzed, sitting tucked up into their regular booth at the Garrison mess hall. Celine was technically his superior officer (due to seniority, she had two years on him), but they had been friends since their early days of cadet training. 

And technically, yes, she got to suggest him as a candidate for upcoming missions. 

“Come on, Takashi! I thought you wanted a new mission! Y’know, get up there, prove yourself in front of Mr. Holt, make a name for yourself.”

“Okay, yeah, I do. But I don’t think this is the best way to--” he stopped as she rolled her eyes, throwing her legs up onto his lap and yawning sarcastically. “Such little respect for your ELDERS!” 

“I’m sorry, Sea-Lion, I forgot you were an old geezer,” he fired back, flicking one of her feet. Then he sighed and continued, “look: Put me on a short mission with Holt so I can prove myself. Put me on a mission with Matt and some of the other kids from our cadet class and I wouldn’t be complaining-- god knows I don’t want to leave him for four months. But don’t stick ONLY me, him and Holt Sr. in a tiny tin can research ship for fourth months and shoot us into fuck knows where edge of the galaxy, okay?” 

Celine smiled, and slid him a file. “But you and Mr. Holt get along so well! He loves you! Know who else loves you? Matt! You three would make a great team: you pilot, Matt does tech maintenance, and Holt does all the rock samples or what have you. The mission only needs three garrison members! Shiro, this might very well be the farthest we’ve ever sent a crew out there. You could pilot the ship that goes farther than any has ever before.”

Shiro stuck his bottom lip out, shaking his head like a little kid to tease her. “Nuh-uh. No fucking way, Sea-Lion.” He glanced down at the file, then hummed. “Where the hell is Kerberos anyway?”

**

They’d been taken. 

The ground was cold. Shiro felt stiff like he never had before, the immense gravity settling down like a weight on his body, somehow causing his insides to condense in upon themselves. His head was spinning, dizzy and light. It felt like it had separated from his shoulders, held on only by habit. His throat was tight. He had turned to stone and would never move again. 

“Shiro!” That voice belonged to Matt. 

Shiro opened his eyes and struggled into a sitting position, blinking, his vision tunneling. He was in a small room, more of a broom closet size, completely concrete with a metal paneled floor. On one side of the room was a small window, leading out to the dizziness of deep space. 

Where were they?

“Shiro!” 

“Matt!” He struggled towards the wall the other boy’s voice is coming from, trying to breathe deeper through the abnormal weight and pressure. Breathe.

….Breathe. Where was his helmet? He felt for it and found sharp shards of plexiglas surrounding his neck, the remains of his once-helmet. What was he breathing? Why wasn’t he dead?

“Is…. Are…. Is there oxygen here?” For a minute there was no response. “Matt..?” he urged. “I don’t know. They have some kind of air system that re-distributes…. Something. I’ve heard it power on and off a few times. It must have enough oxygen that we can breathe it right? Otherwise we’d be dead.”

“Yeah… Yeah,” Shiro agreed, automatically assuring Matt. “I think it has other gases in it,” Matt continued, “the air I mean. I feel weird. Do you feel weird?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro said again, trying to keep his voice steady and his head from floating away. “Look, Matt. We’re going to be alright. Let’s assess the situation. Let’s think about our Garrison training.” Shiro was more breathless than Matt, but re-assuring Matt helped him somehow.

“We’re on a literal alien ship, Shiro. As in: aliens that can speak, that have a society, that have GUNS. Aliens that want to hurt us. There is NOTHING in the Garrison Juniors Handbook for this situation!” 

“Lower you voice,” Shiro responded, “I don’t want to draw attention to us. Do you know where your father is?”

He could hear Matt shuffle on the other side of the wall. “He’s on the other side of me,” Matt responded, quieter now than before, “he’s doing his whole ‘commander’s always got a plan’ thing, talking about rewiring the doors so we can break out.”

“So he’s got nothing,” Shiro summarized. “Yeah,” Matt confirmed, “he’s got nothing.”

“How long have you been awake?” Shiro asked, “how long have we been here?” 

“I’ve been awake maybe 10 hours? I think they drugged us after they knocked us out. I’m hungry, and thirsty. We’ve been here a while, but I suppose not more than a night or two or the thirst would be worse. Shiro…. I’m scared.”

“I know,” Shiro murmured, still loud enough to be heard through the wall, “Mattie, we’re gonna get through this. We’ll figure out a way back--”

“To the ship?” Matt asked, “I know the first rule in the rulebook Shiro. Get back to you ship. If you can’t figure out a way back to your ship, you’re screwed.”

“Hey,” Shiro joked halfheartedly, “I taught you that. Turns out you listen to your superior officer sometimes.” 

They were interrupted by the two sound of loud footsteps down the metal hallway outside our little doors. 

Clank. “Arena”. Clank. “Labor.” Clank. “Labor.” Clank. “Labor.” Clank. “Hmmm…. Arena for this one.” Clank. “Pfft. Labor.” 

Shiro heard Matt yelp as the clanking reached them. Clank. “Arena.” The footsteps sounded three more times and then a hidden panel opened up in his door with a clank. An alien’s face peered in, appraising him briefly. “Arena,” the alien decided, and closed it again. 

Then they were roughly being pulled from their cells by what appeared to be drones. Either that or soldiers in extensive armour. They moved with a human-like fluidity, but they stood too straight, their backs uncurved. ‘Drones’, Shiro decided. 

His heart beat against the inside of his ribcage as Matt was pulled out of his cell. Matt’s eyes found his immediately. “Move,” the drone behind him commanded. He moved towards Matt, oppose from the direction the drone wanted him to, and it jutted an arm out to press a cold metal electrical wand to his stomach. 

He gasped in pain as the electricity jumped through him, leaving a singe mark on his shirt. “Move,” the drone said again, moving him with his electrical wand. 

**

Matt stumbled forwards into Shiro’s arms, but immediately whirled around to face the drone that had pushed him. “Where is my father?” he demanded desperately, “where are you taking him!”

Shiro held him back with solid arms around his waist. “Easy, easy. Hey, Matt, calm down!” Matt only struggled harder in his arms. “It’s a drone,” Shiro insisted, “it’s just programed to do what it’s told. You can’t hurt it, so the only thing that’s gonna happen if you take a swing at it is you getting tasered into next year. Settle down.”

Matt struggled again once, weakly. “That’s an order, cadet.”

Matt went limp in his arms. Others were piled into the room, all of them young and fearful, none of them human. The room itself was just as empty as their cells had been, and it felt like it was somehow the underbelly of the ship. 

Shiro gently pulled Matt towards a corner of the room, and they sat, Matt more falling than anything. “I’m never going to see my mom again,” Matt said, and with that his voice broke and he buried his face in Shiro’s chest, sobbing. The others in the room largely ignored them, sinking into their own corners, many in similar states. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Shiro pleaded, holding him close, “we don’t know that, Matt. We just have to--”

“What?” Matt demanded, hands fisting in the material of Shiro’s old spacesuit shirt, a cloth that was now ripped and worn. “Find our way back to the ship? All the tech is dead, Shiro. The coms are down, there’s no signal, it’s all broken. We’re probably light years away from the ship by now. And…. Katie….”

He buried his head in Shiro’s chest again, and Shiro switched to carding fingers through his hair. ‘Keith’, he thought desperately. What would Keith do without him?

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered, “it’s okay. It’s going to be alright. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me Matt, we’re gonna be just fine.”

Three months ago it would been strange and foreign to be so close to Matthew Holt. But three months is a long time on a spaceship, even with an ever watchful, terrifyingly intelligent father aboard such as their captain Holt. They’d grown closer, sharing inside jokes, sharing personal space, keeping the consuming darkness of the open space outside away. When they got back to earth, Shiro had been planning on asking him out on a date, a proper date, not just hanging out in the observatory room with extra rations. Maybe they’d go to a cafe, or to the movies or walking around a park somewhere. Matt seemed like a park kind of guy. 

Just two nights ago the biggest concern was whether or not Matthew Holt would turn down his suggestion of a hypothetical date in the park. 

Shiro breathed in shakily. He would never walk in a park again. He was never going to see earth again. He’d never see Keith again-- the garrison would tell Keith he was dead. What would that do to his brother? 

He was going to die out here, which was-- for all he knew-- a thousand light years away from home.

It felt like holding Matt together with his arms was holding Shiro together on the inside. 

They fell asleep like that, the first night.

**

“GET UP, CHAMPIONS,” the guard sneered, banging repeatedly on the door. Shiro groaned, a hand on his head. They needed water, soon, or they were going to start seeing things, and it was a general downhill death from there. The dehydration had started like a headache, then a hangover, and now like a cloud around his head, fogging up his thoughts. Matt groaned too, burying his face into Shiro’s chest to avoid the penlight that was now being shined in each of their faces. 

“THERE’S WATER. AND FOOD. FOR THE FIRST PERSON TO THE ARENA GATES,” the guard hollered. Shiro sat up straighter. If he could get water-- not to mention food-- for him AND Matt…. But the other members of the room were also sitting up excitedly. Matt gripped his shirtfront. “No. Please. Not worth it--”

“But--”

“Please,” Matt begged again, holding onto him. Shiro nodded, and turned his eyes back down to the ground, the two of them sinking down into their corner. “I SEE YOU IN THE CORNERS, CHAMPIONS! DON’T TRY TO HIDE! YOU’LL ALL GET YOUR CHANCE AT THE GLORY, NOT TO WORRY.”

The guard hauled a prisoner close to them too her feet with an electrical baton, and Shiro and Matt stood quickly. 

“Shiro--” 

Shiro cut him off quietly. “Hold my hand. Stay close to me.”

**  
“I can’t do this. I’m going to die here. I-- I’m never going to see my family again.” Shiro wanted desperately to reach out and comfort Matt, but they’d both already been struck several times for stepping out of line or talking too loudly. 

“Shhhhh, quiet, Mattie,” Shiro whispered nervously, rocking back and forth in place on the balls of his feet, “you need to stay quiet, okay?” There was no way out. Shiro couldn’t find a way out. 

Matt kept saying his dad would come for them, but commander Holt had been dragged away with children, the elderly, and those with disability. He wasn’t here in the arena, and he wasn’t going to labour. He was probably already dead. 

“No, no, Shiro. I’m going to die. I’m going--”

In front of their grim line up of prisoners, the crowd roared. Drones carried yet another unidentifiable alien from the swinging double doors. Whether the individual was dead or unconscious was unclear, as was where the drones were taking them. Shiro watched them go. This one didn’t seem to be breathing. 

“Next. You.” The alien speaking pointed at Matt, shoving a long sword at him. “Shiro. Shiro! SHIRO!” Matt was reaching hysterics, refusing the sword, his breathing loud and sporadic, “SHIRO SHIRO PLEASE NO IM GOING TO DIE I CANT DO THIS SHIRO--”

Shiro launched himself at the alien, grabbing the sword roughly from her hands. “I will be your champion!” he heard himself assert, as though watching his own actions on television. He turned to Matt and roughly shoved him to the ground, hitting his leg with the blunt and then sharp edge of the sword-- enough to make the boy fall hard, blood staining the dark material of his jumpsuit. 

Matt stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes, and he jumped on Matt, sword clanking dangerously against the concrete floor. For a moment he maintained his wide-eyed look, until he could sink further towards Matt and whisper against his ear: “I love you. Take care of yourself. Try to find your father, if he’s alive. Take care of him. Matt--”

The alien tore him away from Matt, hissing wetly into his ear, “alright, they’ll be enough of a chance to fight in the ring, champion-seeker.” Shiro swallowed, elbowed the alien in the stomach, and scrambled back to Matt. 

Matt met him halfway, sitting up and grabbing his face. Shiro kissed him roughly, and Matt switched to holding desperately onto the fabric of Shiro’s shirt. 

“Oi! I said get off!” The alien grabbed him from his shirt collar again and he was again ripped away from Matt. 

The last thing he saw was Matt’s wide eyes, his mouth moving around the shape of Shiro’s name…. And then the bright lights of the arena blinded him, and there was only the roar of the crowd, and the smell of drying blood, and his thumping heartbeat. 

**

ROUGHLY 2 YEARS LATER: 

But…. He was dead. 

Shiro felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He couldn’t swallow, and he couldn’t blink. He leaned into the doorframe for support as the others pushed past him. 

Matthew Holt was dead. 

The boy had been dead for 2 years now. 

Shiro had SEEN him wheeled out on a stretcher, his veins…. He’d seen him floating in the black, his blond hair and his face…. His face…. 

And he’d known for two years and he’d known Mr. Holt was most likely dead too and he’d been unable to tell Pidge. He’d let them believe there was hope and chase nothing and smoke all over the galaxy because he was selfish. And he couldn’t say the words “Matt Holt is dead.”

And now here he was, swaying against Pidge for support, grinning widely at the small assembly of tired soldiers. Still as tall and as gangly and as wide-eyed and as fidgety as their launch day. But now he had the same eyes as Shiro, far away and older, somehow. He had a thin pink scar running down one side of his face, his hair was longer, his lips were chapped, he was wearing robes from the farthest edge of nowhere. 

“This is Matt,” Pidge said proudly. 

I know, I know, I know who he is, Shiro wanted to scream, I know him I loved him and I was in charge of his life and he died. He’s dead, don’t you get that? 

Matt opened his mouth, and the first thing he said with that beautiful, real and solid and alive voice was: “Allura? You are so beautiful! It’s so nice to meet you!” 

It glazed right past Shiro, who was hearing the first and last thing Matt Holt had ever said to him and everything in between. 

Lance was doing something stupid, saying something stupid and fake about his love for Allura to lighten the odd mood. And Keith was stepping forwards to keep him in check and Pidge was shifting their tiny weight to keep Matt upright. 

Allura stepped to the side, and Matt’s eyes met his. 

“Shiro--! Sir--!” 

He stepped forwards uncertainly from Pidge. 

Shiro ignored the hand offered to him, and desperately pulled the shorter boy forwards into a crushing hug. For a second, Matt didn’t move. ‘What’s wrong? Why isn’t he hugging back? Is he okay? He’s alive. He’s alive, he’s alive, Matt is right here and solid and in my arms and he’s okay and….”

Shiro buried his face into Matt’s shoulder, aware of the many sets of eyes on them. “Matt?” he pushed, voice questioning and unsteady. 

“You left me there,” Matt whispered back. He froze, even more than before, his jaw tensing. “Shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant to say--” he quickly tried to amend, “my brain just--”

Shiro detached rigidly from him, nodded. “I-- I didn’t-- Fuck-- I--”

Struggling to swallow he nodded again and turned, stumbling away from the small crowd, and away from Matt. 

**

The rest of the night Shiro floated through his duties and routines. He helped Hunk in the kitchen…. Until he dropped something for the fourth time and Hunk politely asked him to go lie down and get some rest. 

Matt was alive. Shiro had left him there. In the labour camp of a Galra cruiser. 

Shiro had left him there. 

Shiro had left him there. 

Shiro had left him there. 

Somebody was knocking on his door, the metallic plating echoing emptily. “.... Shiro?” 

Keith. Keith was still here. He had to be okay. He had to be okay. He had to be okay. 

“Come in!” he called. 

“Are you okay?” Keith asked immediately. 

“Of course I’m okay, what are you talking about?” Shiro bluffed. 

“Well….” the former red paladin stood awkwardly in the doorframe, then settled on, “you skipped dinner, and it’s been 3 hours since anybody’s seen you. Not to mention it’s…. Um…. It’s your dish day on the chart.”

“--It’s okay,” Keith hastened to tack on, “I did them for you, I don’t mind. But, um, you never miss doing chores. And…. Shiro. You’re crying.”

“What no I’m-- Oh.” 

“Look. Holt’s staying in the empty bunk room next to Pidge’s if you you want to talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me. I was in charge of him and I left him behind in enemy territory.”

“You were his superior officer,” Keith corrected sharply, “you were not responsible for his life.”

“I promised to protect him. I was in charge of his life.”

Keith sighed and nodded. “Get some sleep if you’re not going to talk to him, okay?”

Shiro said nothing, but stared at the light filtering in from the hallway behind his brother. 

“Want me to stay?” Keith asked. Shiro shook his head, “no. But thank you.” Keith sighed, nodded, and closed the door behind him, leaving Shiro again in the dark. 

He should go see Matt. For fucks sake Matt was alive, walking, talking, breathing, laughing, HERE alive; and Shiro couldn’t even go hug him, make sure he was okay, asked what happened. 

What happened after the stretcher and his veins. What happened as Shiro shuttled away from him into deep space, the shaking of his pod so crushing he couldn’t stay conscious. Who had saved him, where they’d taken him, how he’d learned to survive. Where he’d gotten those clothes, his new scar. 

Matt didn’t want to see him. Shiro repeated it in his mind, a fail-safe on his mind. He wanted to see Matt, but Matt didn’t want to see him. So he’d stay in his room. He wasn’t selfish. He wasn’t. Matt didn’t want to see him. Matt didn’t want to see him. Matt didn’t want to see him.

Shiro stood on autopilot, muscles tensed as though ready for a fight. He made his way to the door. 

There was a knock on it as he reached it. “Keith--” he sighed, pulling it open. 

Matt Holt stood in his doorway, very, very alive. 

“.... Matt.”

“I thought you were dead,” Matt responded. 

“I thought you were dead,” Shiro breathed. Matt took a shaky breath. “I’m glad you’re not dead,” he whispered, falling into Shiro. Matt’s arms wrapped around him.

“I saw you get rolled out of the medical wing on a stretcher,” Shiro breathed out all at once, “and then I saw…. I saw your body out in the Clutter, Mattie.”

“No. No, I never went outside, I never--”

“I thought I was saving you by breaking your stupid leg, I thought in labour you’d be safe. Until I could-- I could--”

“Shiro.” Matt held him at arm’s length, trying to slow his breathing. “I never went to Labour.”

“What?” 

“I went to Experimentation.” As Matt spoke he leaned down to lift his robes and then roll up his pant leg, on the side Shiro had cut with the longsword. It was mechanical. Wiring flowed through a careful design of metal and plastic, accented by the trademark purple glow and silver sigil of Galra technology. 

“They fixed me up, but the doctors…. They decided to keep me. They never sent me back to the ring.”

“No--” Shiro began. No, what? That’s not what I wanted, I tried so hard to save you, he thought, then whispered again, “no….”

Matt touched his tech-arm gently. “I thought surely you’d be dead in the ring, and my father dead in an open airlock somewhere,”’ he mumbled, “but then they wheeled you in. You were unconscious, with this big mask over your face, and you were bleeding and bleeding and bleeding from your shoulder and they couldn’t get it to stop…. But it was you, I was sure of it. I tried to get out of the bed they had me in in the medical wing, but my leg still wasn’t working, and I was drugged. There was too many of them. The next thing I remember was waking up, and you were gone. But the bed you’d been in was still there, covered in blood, so I told myself that meant they hadn’t had to wheel you out: that you were alive.”

“With that, I fought them day and night. They kept me drugged, and largely unconscious, but I tried so hard, Shiro. I memorized all the hallways, I memorized all the guards and doctors. I tried to stay awake, I hid pills under my tongue-- but they put the sedative into the drip pouch in my arm. I tried to escape over and over-- but they would remotely deactivate my mechanical leg and then I couldn’t move it at all and I would fall….”

“I don’t really know what they did to me. I know they put things in my blood. They put me underwater, and they made me run, and they made me stay in this tiny room without water…. But I wasn’t afraid, I was so drugged up.”

“Who saved you?” Shiro cut in. Matt looked at him in confusion. “I saved myself,” he responded.

“When I thought months had passed, and I couldn’t find you or my father, I stopped waiting. I pulled out my nutrition IV, the one that kept sedating me when they wanted, and I waited for the drug to leave my system. It was a long time, and I was hungry, but I waited. Finally I jumped a guard who thought I was asleep, and crawled to an emergency escape pod. I hit the eject button, and landed…. Well, somewhere that wasn’t entirely Galra occupied. The rebels were the ones who approached my pod, because it had the Galran sigil on it, but when they realized I wasn’t from the empire, they helped me.”

“God, I’m so sorry. Matt--”

“What happened to you?” Matt interrupted, half-interrogating, half-begging, “I can see they gave you an arm like my leg but…. How did you escape?” 

“I got help,” Shiro responded guiltily. 

“So after I saw you in the medical wing, that was it? You really did leave us?” Matt accused. 

“No. No, no, no. I waited until I was sure both you and your father were dead before I allowed--”

“My father is not dead,” Matt responded indignantly. 

“Your father was old. He didn’t go to labour, and he didn’t go to the arena….” 

“He went to experimentation, Shiro!” Matt insisted, “I saw him while I was there, I’m sure of it! I saw him!”

“I saw things too, Matt,” Shiro mumbled. “When…. When I won a fight in the ring. They injected me with this drug, S41. To slow my heart rate. To calm me down. To make me…. Stable. “Safe”.... S41 also happens to be a hallucinogen. I saw Keith, coming to rescue me. I saw the desert, and our stupid little house. I saw the garrison, and my bunker, and your house, and your roof, and your room and your dining room table the first time I had dinner with your family and I…. I saw earth, but mostly I saw you.”

“I started…. I started trying to win, Matt. I started to enjoy it, because then I could see home again, and…. I could see you again. You know how you lose in the Arena, right?”

“You either die, or you’re knocked unconscious to the point where the drones can’t wake you within 5 minutes,” Matt whispered. His eyes were struck wide, with concern or fear, Shiro couldn't tell. 

“Every time I went down, I didn’t expect to get up. When they couldn’t wake me in 5 minutes they’d take me away to this room. The Grey Room. It didn’t have metal flooring, just concrete on 6 sides, and no windows. And it didn’t have anti-grav. It was to force my body to heal, but it was also a punishment, to train me against losing. Without the window, I couldn’t count the movement of the ship, or the passage of time. There was very little sound inside any of the Grey Rooms, what sound there was echoed, with no clear direction. It was a much more efficient version of insanity torture than anything else the Galra tried as punishment for me. And the drugs they gave me when I was already unconscious, “safe”, didn’t let me see you. They weren’t hallucinogenic, I guess. But they numbed me, immobilized me, made me float around and around in the middle of those six walls, and I couldn’t move…. So I healed, I guess. So I couldn’t hurt myself more.”

“I started needed to win, Matt. I…. I hurt people. People who were in the same situation as me. I knocked them out as quickly as I could, without breaking anything. But that meant they would go to the Grey Room, not me. I started acting crazy after they went down, so the drones would inject me with a higher dosage of S41. I tried to give whoever was in the arena with me a few hits on me first. So I could see how strong they were. Sometimes I’d underestimate them, and they’d break a bone on me, or knock me out before I could retaliate, and I’d lose the match. Sometimes I’d overestimate them, and I’d really hurt them. There was this boy, Matt. Younger than Keith. I overestimated his strength, and I was just trying to knock him out…. With one hit…. To make it quick and over…. He was so small and so angry….” 

“I think I killed him, Matt. I hit him with my mechanical arm too hard. I can’t be sure, but….”

“I think I killed him.”

“There was a young Galra boy who would walk me from the Grey Room to the Arena, with drones. And…. the things I said to him, Matt. I can’t even repeat to you. I promised him that someday I would break out of my chains and I would…. I would come back for his family…. And I would…. Matt, there’s a young Galra boy on one of those ships scared to death, who’ll probably never sleep again. Not because of the things he said to me, but because of the things I said to him. I…. I changed there. More than you. You’re still you,” Shiro breathed in disbelief, “you’re still you.”

Matt shook his head, reaching up a hand to tightly grip Shiro’s hair, grounding him. “You’re still you too.” 

“No. No I’m not, Mattie. At first I couldn’t remember escaping, couldn’t remember how I’d gotten out. Ulaz…. He helped me. I did everything he said but…. It all went sideways the day I was supposed to make it out. I took down drone after drone getting to the hallway junction we were supposed to meet at, and I didn’t blink, drones are mindless and mechanical, they aren’t alive and they can’t die. But I also took down all eight Galra stationed in that wing, guard after guard. Young foot soldiers. At the time I didn’t blink killing them either, I justified it afterwards with the idea that they too were non-human, or at least inherently evil…. But then I found out about Keith.”

Shiro couldn’t help the sob that bubbled up out of his throat, through clenched teeth. He HAD changed, because it was supposed to be him holding Matt as the younger boy fell apart, not the other way around. One of Matt’s hands gripped his hair tightly again, holding him steady, his other hand rubbing soothing circles onto his back. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “S’ not okay,” Shiro whispered back. 

“No,” Matt conceded, “it’s not okay. But you’re going to be alright. I’ve got you, and you’ve got me, Shiro, we’re gonna be just fine.” 

Shiro hiccuped into his shoulder, and pressed a hasty and forceful kiss into the first solid piece of Matt he could reach, which happened to he the front of robe’s collar. 

Matt detached from him slightly, only to cup Shiro’s face and raise it so they were sitting with their noses brushing in the dark of the bunker-- the engulfing blackness of deep space swirling out the window and alighting shadows that tilted with the stars outside, Shiro’s cheeks wet, his eyelashes sticking together, and Matt’s breathing sporadic, and-- Matt kissed him.

Shiro leaned into him, Matt supporting his entire weight. Shiro gasped and then smiled, breaking the kiss and then leaning into Matt again. 

Matt broke the kiss suddenly, his eyes widening, and leaned back so he could focus on Shiro’s face. Shiro’s could hear his heartbeat against the insides of his ears, and he waited for Matt to say something profound. 

“Hold on,” Matt whispered, “you were with Pidge when they launched for this whole crazy voltron thing. Shirogane! How could you let my baby sibling do something so stupid as launch themselves into space?!” Matt punctuated every word with a slap to Shiro’s arm. 

“Ow, ow, ow, Matt-- Mattie stop! You know they can handle themselves,” Shiro responded, head spinning. Matt switched from lightly slapping to pulling Shiro’s entire weight back and forth, and soon they were tumbling headlong back into the bunk in a mess of limbs, both laughing. 

“I know they can handle themselves, you idiot,” Matt sighed exasperatedly, settling into the space on Shiro’s shoulder. He fit perfectly back under Shiro’s arm-- that was the same-- his nose brushing Shiro’s neck, and Shiro hummed in approval. 

“.... But my mom can’t,” Matt finished, “you know what the Garrison puts on missing posters after forty days.” Shiro’s throat tightened again. “Presumed dead.”

“She has nobody left, not my dad, not me, not Pidge. She must think the Garrison swallowed her entire family whole.” Shiro kissed his forehead, without thinking, and murmured, “Mrs. Holt is the one of the strongest people I know, Matt. She wouldn’t give up you, not in a million years. And we’ll make it back there, to earth, someday. If not for any of the rest of us, for Mrs. Holt.”

Matt sighed, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “I thought I’d never see any of my family again. Now I have Pidge--” he buried his face into Shiro’s shirtfront “--and you. I have you, right?” 

“Always.”

It holding Matt together in his arms held Shiro together from the inside out. 

“I know you think my father went to the airlock chambers and then out into the Clutter, but I SAW him in the medical wing. He was alive two weeks in, I swear it to you. I know it’s been two years, but…. I don’t know how but…. I can feel that he’s still alive. You thought I was dead and, here I am, so--”

“I’ll help you find your father, Matt.”

Matt swallowed thickly. “Thank you. And Shiro…. Thank you for saving me, that first day when we were lining up for the arena.”

Shiro nodded, shifting to rest his head on Matt’s. “I’m sorry I left you there, Mattie,” he whispered. 

“You’ve got me now.”

**Author's Note:**

> hmu with voltron prompts or requests and I will love you forever <3  
> **  
> I promise I haven't forgotten about the Riding AU


End file.
